


Undone

by Kale12



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, PWP, Smut, Voyeurism, We're all masochists, but bruce especially, world's greatest detective amirite?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 10:37:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9890765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kale12/pseuds/Kale12
Summary: “C’mon, Batman. Don’t you want to watch me fuck your woman?”





	

* * *

 

 

“Angel,” he murmurs, pressing soft, hungry kisses to her mouth as he pushes down the straps of her wine-red gown.

 

Diana laughs in between kisses, putting her hands on his chest in half-hearted protest. “Steve, we shouldn’t. He’ll be here to give us our assignment any minute.”

 

His hands travel down her sides, tightening at her waist. There’s a gleam in his eye that makes her skin tingle. “Then we’ll have to put on a good show,” he says, tugging at the laces until they give way all at once, the bodice unfurling from her skin like a flower. “Make it worth his while,” his voice drops low, and the warmth that blooms low in her belly takes her wholly by surprise.

 

She pushes his tuxedo jacket to the floor, starts reaching for his bowtie when the balcony door swings open. She pauses, looking over her shoulder to the black-caped figure frozen in the doorway, his jaw tight and his shoulders tensed. Diana pauses, but Steve doesn’t, whirling her around to face their visitor, cupping her breasts and pressing the hard length of his erection into her backside.

 

“It’s time to go.” Bruce’s voice is calm, businesslike, and a little spike of annoyance propels Diana forward just slightly, so that her dress starts to slip down, rippling past her legs in a susurration of heavy silk. She sees his fists clench and lets a faint smile touch her lips. They resent this hold they have on one another, a wretchedly intimate denial. 

 

Behind her, Steve chuckles, pulling pins out of her hair until it tumbles down over her shoulders, rich and dark and endless. “Time to _come_ ,” Steve corrects him cheerfully, tangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her towards him for a deep kiss. “C’mon, Batman. Don’t you want to watch me fuck your woman?”

 

Diana can feel the tension skyrocket, can feel the bite under Steve’s laugh. She doesn’t dare let herself look at Bruce; she kisses Steve back instead, trying to focus on the taste of him instead of the sounds of retreat.

 

“Is he gone?” she asks, pulling away slightly, but keeping her fingers entwined behind the nape of Steve’s neck.

 

“From the room,” he says, hauling her back against him for another short kiss before pressing her down on the bed and surrounding her with the long, lean lines of his body.  

 

“The doors are wide open,” he whispers, and her body arches, desperate for skin on skin. “You like that, don’t you, angel?” he says, one finger pressing gently inside her, then another. “You like knowing he’s out there, watching.”

 

She can feel the blood rush all the way to her toes, can feel the sweetness slice through her body.

 

Steve fucks like a soldier, head bent to one nipple as he lifts her sweaty body up against his, easing her down on his cock with expert precision. He’s turned them so she’s facing the open balcony, but it’s too dark to make out any figures lurking in the shadows, her senses too flooded to listen for a rustle of leaves, the swirl of a cape. But she knows Bruce is there, would swear on her lasso that she could feel his burning gaze on her naked body.

 

She whispers frantic nonsense, broken bits of Greek and English in between hot presses of her mouth along Steve’s beautiful jaw. She breaks off, words choking in her throat as she hits the full length of him, and he holds her tightly for a long minute, his big hands fiercely gripping her hips. There are phantom hands at her back, phantom lips at her neck, a prickle of skin. She wants to sob with relief when Steve finally moves, thrusting into her with long, steady strokes, edging her into a white-hot heat. _Watch me_ , she thinks. _Watch me burn._

 

Steve comes not long after, slumping into her arms with weary satisfaction. “He still out there?” he asks, grinning, kissing her shoulder. One hand stays wrapped around her waist, the other traces her breast idly.

 

“Yes,” she says, still a little breathless, looking out into the night beyond, Steve still inside her. She stares out steadily as she kisses his temple, achingly slow, holding an invisible gaze.

 

Later, she finds the batarang, sticking a note to the balcony door. _Tomorrow_ , it reads, and she shivers.

 

* * *

 


End file.
